Redsand Canyon down and out over the mount

An ache hammers at his temples. It's a leftover from the fierce anticipation of a fight. You sit in the corner of a bar, and you watch the first blow being exchanged (a dull thunk of a fist against a jawbone) and even though you're not in the fight, not even close to it, your heart beats quick. Your fists clench around a salt shaker. It's electricity.

They walk in silence. Colin chews at his lip, ready to offer an awkward farewell and then to peel off, but then Finley asks him-- What brought you here?

His heart lurches again. All types of confrontation feels the same to your brain. He considers many answers: a sharp Why does it matter? or a soft and distant I don't understand. But what comes out of his mouth is neither. "I couldn't stay back home." 

"Anyone could've found me. It just happened to be Donovan. I just couldn't remain where I was." An interrogation, but Finley didn't have the authority, the confidence, of a detective or a cop. It could've been either one of them handcuffed to the table, or listening through the bulletproof screen glass.